Graveyard Shift Poem by Sneha Murali

My graveyard shift,
I trudge and go
with rotting corpses on the floor.
The stench of death and all its glory,
shining through an untold story.
And as i pass a muddy trench,
it unfolds to tell a tale.
The grizzly ghouls beneath the dirt,
seeking comfort in pain and hurt,
come out in search of blood so pure,
hoping for something to lure.
I take in the aroma of lusty lifeless air,
and i finally understand
in life and in death, nothing is fair.



Copyright © 2010 by Sneha Murali